


I Look At You And I’m Home

by patchworkofstars



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, fluffy fluff, mention of a breakup between unnamed characters, mention of past insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 14:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19770358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchworkofstars/pseuds/patchworkofstars
Summary: When a bad day at work for Emile derails the couple’s plans for the evening, Remy decides to give him the best possible date night at home!





	I Look At You And I’m Home

**Author's Note:**

> Autistic Emile because I can. Implied autistic Logan because I can do that too. This was supposed to be a short hurt/comfort fic, but then Remy took a small unplanned detour and a whole heap of fluff ensued!

The sound of the door was his first clue, a soft click followed by a weary sigh. Usually, it would be half slammed with enthusiasm, and a cheerful cry would ring out of “Remy, I'm home!" or, on special occasions, "I'm back and I brought Starbucks!" But although he strained his ears, he heard nothing more.

“Hi, Em!” he called out, his frown deepening as the silence lengthened. He stretched to see around the side of the sofa, peering over his trademark shades. “Em?” he called again, “Are you okay?” There was only one explanation he could think of for the silence, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

His fears were confirmed a moment later when his boyfriend finally appeared through the doorway from the hall. From the dishevelled state of his hair, it was clear he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. His necktie was loosened and hung at an odd angle, and his shoulders were slumped. A small shake of his head was his only response to Remy's question, and even that motion seemed weary and defeated.

“Babe!” Remy was at his side in an instant. “Hey, girl, are you down for a hug?”

Emile nodded, and Remy wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders, hugging him close. Emile buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in that faint but reassuring aroma of leather, Starbucks, and something uniquely Remy that for him always meant _home._

Remy leaned his head against Emile’s, feeling the soft purple hair tickle his cheek. “Sofa?” he suggested, and Emile nodded in reply, clinging on tightly and barely raising his head as the taller man guided him gently over to the couch. There, he finally let his knees give way, and collapsed into the welcoming embrace of both the soft cushions and Remy.

At last, some of his tension began to ebb away, encouraged by Remy’s comforting murmurs of “It’s okay, babe, I’m here”, and “You’re home now, you’re safe, it’s gonna be fine.”

Gradually, his grip on Remy’s shirt relaxed, his white knuckles unfurling until his palms were laid flat against his boyfriend’s chest. He slid them down and around Remy’s waist, hugging him tightly before finally moving back to give him a watery smile.

“Bad day, huh?” Remy asked gently, when experience told him Emile’s voice might be ready to return. “Was it, like, a patient you couldn’t help?” The therapist took most of the stresses and difficulties of his job in his stride, priding himself on finding ways to get even the most reluctant clients to open up. But when his methods failed and he couldn’t help someone in pain, the feelings of not having done enough, or _been_ enough, hit him hard.

Emile nodded, his hand finding one of Remy’s and giving it a squeeze of acknowledgement and thanks.

“So, do you wanna talk about it?”

Emile shook his head. “Can’t. Patient-doctor con… confidentiality.” His words were soft and halting, but determined.

“Oh yeah, that thing. The gossip-killer.” Remy sighed. “Well, could you at least give me, like, an outline? No names, just the part that’s upset you, so I’ll know how to help.”

Emile took a deep breath and released it slowly, considering. Then he nodded. “It was the last session of the day”, he explained. “New patients for couple’s therapy, a man and a woman. The guy was a bit quiet, withdrawn, but that's the way it goes sometimes. I told him no pressure, he could speak when he felt ready to.”

“And I’m guessing he did?”

“Did he ever”, Emile mumbled, scraping both hands through his hair and grimacing. “Halfway through the session he suddenly leapt up, like he couldn't keep it in anymore. He said, ‘I'm sorry, I'm gay. I'm in love with a guy from work.'"

“Damn, girl, that sucks”, Remy murmured sympathetically. “Did the woman yell at him? I bet she yelled.”

Emile took another deep breath and buried his face in his hands before continuing. “Yeah, she did. At him _and_ at me. And she was so loud...” He shuddered at the memory, pulling his cardigan sleeves over his hands and pressing them to his ears.

“That’s rough, babe.” Remy rubbed his boyfriend’s back soothingly.

"Comes with the job, sometimes", Emile mumbled. He sighed, pushing his sleeves back up so he could rub his face with his palms. "I didn't like it, but I understand how she felt. All that time together and it was never real. Two words and it all came crashing down!" He looked despairing at Remy, his face wet with silent tears. “It got me thinking, what if that happens to us?”

Remy took his hand, expression serious, and looked him in the eyes. “Babe”, he said, “I’m gay. I’m in love with a man, and his name is Emile Picani.”

Emile made sound between a giggle and a sob, taking back his hand to swat Remy gently with sweater– or rather cardigan-paws before nestling against him once more.

I just got scared, that’s all”, he explained softly, his eyes tracing the geometric pattern of the frieze running around the walls of the room.

He closed his eyes, the pattern suddenly becoming too much. Reaching out blindly, he found Remy’s hand once more and curled his fingers around it, brushing his thumb over the familiar shapes and textures.

“I got scared, Rem”, he repeated in a murmur. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d keep on shining like the gem you are”, Remy told him, his voice low but firm. “But I’m not going anywhere, babe, this fusion is stable. The real question is what I’d do without you to lure me into bed each night with cuddles, and out of it each morning with breakfast.”

At last, Emile's lips overcame the tears to curve into a smile, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend. “It's for everyone to eat together, that's the essence of together breakfast", he quoted, looking up to meet Remy’s eyes.

“You’re darn right it is, babe! And it’s, like, a billion times better than the caffeine I used to live on.”

Emile gave a lopsided grin, reaching up to ruffle Remy's dark hair. "Seems to me you still live mostly on caffeine", he teased. 

Remy stuck his tongue out. “Sure, but now I have, like, _actual meals_ too, because I get to look at a gorgeous guy while I eat. Speaking of, what do you wanna do about food tonight?”

He glanced across at the calendar on the wall and Emile followed his gaze, knowing what he was thinking. From this distance, it was too small to read, but they both knew what was written in today's square: "Date Night!" in Remy's bold handwriting with a heart drawn around it by Emile, a reminder they scarcely needed of their regular evening devoted to each other's company. 

They usually went out on date nights, to see the latest animated movie, or to eat at their favourite restaurant, or sometimes even for a gaming session at the local arcade. But there was no way Emile could cope with that tonight. After the emotional meltdown he’d endured, his heart and his nerves would need more time to recover before he’d have the strength to face the outside world.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “I know you were looking forward to the movie, and it will have stopped showing by next time.” He forced a smile at Remy. “You go without me. I’ll make a hot chocolate and watch a couple of episodes of _Ducktales_ , then have an early night.”

“Hell no!” Remy shook his head firmly. “You think I wanna see a movie without you, babe? We can wait and watch it together on Netflix. I am not-” - he reached out and booped Emile’s nose to punctuate his statement - “ _Not_ leaving my Em all alone after a shitty day at work. Would David ditch Nani for a movie? I think _not_.”

“You’re darn right he wouldn’t!” Emile’s face relaxed into a grin and he leaned his head on Remy’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around him. “I guess they’d make the best of it and find a way to have a fun date night at home.”

“Mm-hm”, Remy agreed, pressing a kiss to Emile’s purple hair. “Then that’s what _we’re_ gonna do. Tell you what, babe, you go change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. Gimme five minutes to set up, and we’ll make this the best date night ever.”

Emile gave him a tight squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed to their bedroom to find his favourite comfort clothes. As soon as he was out of sight, Remy set to work transforming their mundane living room into a cosy and intimate venue for a date.

If there was one thing Remy excelled at, it was turning anywhere into a comfortable place to nap. When Emile returned, wearing an oversize Steven Universe hoodie and his softest sweatpants, he was greeted by a magnificent pillow fort, large enough to house them both while still feeling snug and secure.

The sofa and chair cushions had been upended and stacked to provide a structure over which almost every spare blanket in the house had been artfully draped. The remaining few covered the floor inside, with a comforter spread on top to give the couple a place to sit or lie as they chose. At one end stood the cornerstone of the fort, the sturdy back of their sofa, positioned to provide a leaning place as well as the main support.

“How did you do all this so quickly?!” Emile exclaimed, flapping the dangling sleeves of his hoodie.

Remy shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “Babe, when you have brothers like Roman and Virgil, you get a lot of practice building dens! We were always making castles, or caves for dragons, or just places to hide from everything.”

Emile laughed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “You’re so talented!” he joked, rubbing their noses together. “Coffee connoisseur, fort-construction expert, fashion icon, and cuddler extraordinaire! I hit the jackpot with you.”

“Nah”, Remy murmured, leaning his head against Emile’s. and closing his eyes. “I’m the lucky one. Thanks to you, I’ve figured out what I want to do with my life.”

“Hmm? And what’s that?” Emile asked, letting go to smile questioningly up at him.

Remy turned away, pushing up his ever-present sunglasses as a rare hint of pink coloured his cheeks. "Doesn't matter. Come on, let's get this date night started. Want to sort out some music while I make us drinks?”

“Tell you what, _you_ choose the music and _I’ll_ make the drinks”, Emile suggested. “I know how many marshmallows I want, and that number is _all_ of them!”

Remy rolled his eyes and groaned in mock horror. “Girl, I don’t know how you can stand all that sugar. I don’t even like whipped cream on my Starbies!”

As Emile laughed and turned to head to the kitchen, Remy added under his breath, “And besides, you’re sweet enough already.”

Emile spun back around, his face lighting up with a gleeful grin. “What did you just say?” he asked eagerly.

Remy’s blush deepened. “Nothing. Just go get those drinks”, he mumbled, making shooing motions.

“Hmm~?” Emile leaned closer, a smile teasing his lips as he peered at Remy. “It didn’t sound like nothing. It sounded like my sassy boyfriend said something mushy!”

“If you heard it the first time, there’s no way I’m gonna say it again!” Remy whined, hiding his red face in his hands.

Emile laughed. “Well okay then, but I’m watching ya, sweetheart!”

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Remy turned to their music collection to pick a soundtrack to their evening. _Steven Universe_ songs usually helped to lift Emile’s mood, but any playlist including _It’s Over, Isn’t It_ would be a terrible choice this time. Something else, then. Emile had handed the decision over to him, so maybe… His hand hovered over his _Queen_ anthology, then drew back. Tonight was for comforting Emile, not twirling him around the kitchen singing at the tops of their voices. There would be plenty of other evenings for that.

Instead, he settled on something classical, turning the volume to a level they'd be able to hear but could comfortably talk over. Swaying a finger idly along to the opening bars, he closed his eyes and breathed in the mingled aromas of brewing coffee and hot chocolate from the kitchen. He could hear Emile begin humming softly to the music, a sure sign he was already feeling more at peace. A rare softness came over Remy’s face as the sound and the scents combined to fill him with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and love. He hesitated for just a second, debating with himself, then slipped into their bedroom to collect something in case he wanted it later.

When he re-emerged, he found Emile making himself comfortable in the fort alongside a tray containing his own hot chocolate, Remy’s black coffee, and a bowl of sweet and salted popcorn. Remy settled down beside him with a grin, slipping one arm around his boyfriend’s waist as he picked up his drink with the other, breathing in the aroma with a satisfied hum.

The steam clouded his sunglasses, so he took them off and placed them to one side. There was no need for them in here, no bright lights or strangers for them to shield him from. Here there was only Emile, and Remy had no need to hide from him.

Looking back at his boyfriend, he met warm eyes shining gently behind rounded frames. He smiled, letting his gaze wander to take in the fading purple hair, the freckles that scattered and danced across pale skin brightened by a faint pink blush, and the soft lips they’d agreed he wouldn’t kiss directly, but whose touch was a frequent delight on his cheeks, his nose, his temples, his hands.

The familiar soft creases formed around Emile’s eyes as he smiled back, wriggling to get comfortable before leaning back into Remy’s embrace, sipping his hot chocolate through a thick layer of melting marshmallows.

Watching, Remy suppressed a chuckle at the pink and white moustache accumulating on his boyfriend’s upper lip. “Hey, Em?” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble.

“Hmm?” Emile looked around, and Remy gently swiped the residue onto his thumb, then licked it away. “You genuinely are, like, ridiculously sweet”, he told his boyfriend, with a grin.

Emile laughed, a bubbling sound of pure joy that filled Remy’s heart with warmth and light. He gazed adoringly back, wondering how he had ever worried they might not be the right fit. He would gladly spend an eternity hearing that laugh, seeing that smile, tasting the sweetness of Emile’s presence in his world.

He wrapped his arm around his boyfriend once more and Emile hummed contentedly, leaning against him and resting his head on Remy’s shoulder.

“So, how was your day, sweetheart?” Emile asked. “I sure hope it was better than mine.” For a moment his smile faltered, and Remy gave him a sympathetic squeeze.

"I had a pretty lazy day, tbh. I went to the mall and had lunch at Starbucks, then came home and watched that space documentary your nerd of a brother lent me."

Emile sat up abruptly, beaming. "That's great! Logan will appreciate it. I know he sometimes goes overboard trying to ‘educate' you, but he’s just sharing his special interests because he likes you!"

“Yeaaahhh~", Remy drew out the word, grimacing as he did so. "Well, in that case I guess I'm gonna have to try again, because I fell asleep about ten minutes in." He groaned. "God, he'd better not test me on it. The last thing I want is a pop quiz next time I see him. Like, I get that he means well, but some of us are happy wallowing in our ignorance." 

“I know." Emile leaned his head against Remy’s. "But I _am_ proud of you for trying. I think Logan just feels left out sometimes, because you're happy to taste all Patton's new recipe ideas and talk with him and me about cartoons. L thinks real space facts are more interesting than _Steven Universe_ , and it frustrates him that none of us feel the same."

“Yeah, I guess so." Remy stretched his legs out before him, wriggling his toes. Then his lips twisted upwards into a wicked grin. "You know, I'd kinda like to see him face off against Virgil. Logan's Scientific Space Facts (TM) versus Virge's alien conspiracy theories. We should, like, get them talking about it sometime, then sit back and watch the fireworks." 

Emile stuck his tongue out at him. “You said that about Logan and Roman, and look what happened! They ended up having a three-hour argument about Shakespeare in iambic pentameter!” He booped Remy’s nose. “You’re an agent of chaos, Remy Sanders. Pure, unstoppable chaos.”

“And gorgeous with it!” Remy smirked. “You love me, babe, admit it.”

“Mm-hm.” Emile wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, kissing his forehead. “You’re right, I do love you. You’re the most entertaining real person I’ve ever met.” He winked. “I hadn’t planned on finding you quite this entertaining, as Rose said to Greg, but here we are.”

“Here we are”, Remy murmured, nuzzling Emile’s hair. “It’s been a while, huh, babe?”

Emile smiled, picking up one of Remy’s hands and beginning to trace gentle shapes with his forefinger on the palm. “Mm. I’m glad I stopped by Starbucks on the way home that night.”

“Yeah, me too”, Remy murmured softly. With his free hand, he began idly playing with Emile’s hair. “That was such a crazy night. You probably remember more of it than I do; I was, like, a _total_ wreck back then.”

Emile closed his eyes contentedly. “Maybe, but I still like hearing you tell your side of the story.”

Remy grinned, drinking in the view of Emile’s relaxed smile and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. “Sure thing, babe”, he agreed. “So, that night? It was kinda late and the place was practically deserted. I was sitting all alone in a corner, drinking, like, my third espresso because sleeping after dark always gave me nightmares.”

Emile waved an arm, his eyes still closed. “You had a bad case of loneliness”, he said. “You needed more cuddles and cartoons!”

“You know it, babe.” Remy chuckled. “Anyway, there you were, looking like I felt, with your hair a mess and bags under your eyes, but you were still the cutest thing I’d ever seen.”

Emile laughed, his cheeks glowing pink in the soft light. “It had certainly been a tough day. Too many patients who didn’t want cartoon analogies for their problems.”

"Yep! And just like today, your voice had decided it was sick of trouble and was gonna hide from everything. So all you could do was point at the menu and mouth what you wanted to the barista." 

“But she didn’t understand.” Emile groaned at the memory. “She got more and more frustrated, and so did I, and then...” He grinned at Remy, an unspoken cue for him to continue.

“Well, I could lip read because of Virgil having the same problem when he gets, like, panic attacks. So I put down my coffee, rocked up to the counter, and said-”

"'Just get the cute gentleman his grande Caramel Cocoa Cluster Frappuccino, with whip. And I'm gonna pay for it because he looks like he deserves a break!'" Emile burst in, blushing brightly and grinning at the memory. "I hadn't even noticed you before that, but when I turned around you looked even more exhausted than I felt." 

“Yeah”, Remy smiled wryly at the memory. “Insomnia’s a bitch, babe, and she had her claws deep into me back then.”

Emile reached up and gently kissed his cheek. “I know, and I promise I’ll be here so you don’t have to go through that again.”

Remy interlaced their fingers with a relieved sigh. “You’re an angel, Em.”

Emile smiled wryly. “Not everyone would agree with that. Remember, I’ve been kicked out of three different offices for ‘excessive noise’, ‘disturbing other users of the building’, and inappropriate ukulele playing during a tenants’ meeting’.”

He sighed, reaching up to run his fingers through Remy’s hair. “Face it, starbabe, you’re one of the few people willing to put up with me on a daily basis.”

Remy leaned into his touch, contentedly closing his eyes. “Yeah, we’re both disasters, babe. But I was, like, _way_ more of a disaster before I met you.”

“Likewise”, Emile murmured, kissing his cheek again. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, today or back then.”

“You turned things around pretty quickly, even then”, Remy pointed out. “We kept giving each other awkward smiles the whole wait, and when your drink was finally ready, it just, like, made sense to sit together. And after a few sips of that ridiculously sweet mess, you recovered enough to say thanks, and to... talk with me. We just, like, started chatting, and one thing led to another. I still don’t know how I managed not to scare you off.”

“Gay magic”, Emile suggested, leaning affectionately against him once more.

“Sure.” Remy snorted. “I mean, that would certainly explain how I ended up lying on the sofa, with my head in your lap and you playing with my hair. Because otherwise I have, like, _no_ idea.”

Emile grinned. “Well, magic or not, it was definitely gay! I suggested therapy might help with your insomnia, and you refused because you said if I were your therapist, you wouldn’t be able to date me. And I pointed out that you could always get a different one, but… I think your brain was a bit scrambled by that point, because you put your arm around me and told me firmly that you didn’t want to date another therapist, you only wanted me.” He blushed. “I said you should sleep on it and see if you felt the same way when your head was clearer. So you decided to try to sleep on my lap, which you did.”

Remy nodded, grinning. “It was the best I’d slept in _years_ , and when the barista woke me up trying to tell you it was closing time, I opened my eyes, gazed up at your adorable face, and said, ‘That was amazing, babe, you’ve gotta let me sleep with you again sometime!’”

Emile laughed, his face burning at the memory. “And _I_ said, ‘Only if you take me on a date first’, and then _you_ said-”

“’You’re on, how about Starbucks?’” Remy chuckled. “You asked if we could at least catch a movie first, and I told you sure. And then you got all eager and started telling me about every animated movie that was on, and asking which I’d most like to see. You just, like, lit up with enthusiasm, and I realised then that I was gone. I wanted to spend the rest of my life seeing your smile and hearing you talk about the things you love.”

“That’s so pure and cheesy, Rem”, Emile teased affectionately, reaching out to cup his cheek.

Remy leaned into the warmth, closing his eyes. "I guess you have that effect on me, babe", he murmured, pressing a kiss to Emile’s palm. His face was burning, and he wondered if Emile could feel the heat of it.

When Emile moved his hand, Remy slid down to nuzzle his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in the sweet mingled aromas of coffee, marshmallows, and _Emile._ A scent so similar to the one that night, five years ago, but now it filled his heart with a warmth and contentment he could never have imagined back then.

God, he was really going to do this, wasn’t he? The gift in his pocket, which had started out forgettably light, now weighed heavy and constant on his mind. He was going to do this, here, now, tonight. His heart was pounding, his mind scrambling to recall the words he had planned through a giddy haze of nerves and excitement. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, there was a hoarse edge to his voice.

“Emile?”

“Hmm?”

Emile's small noise of response, and his questioning, expectant, utterly intimate expression were enough to conquer Remy's final shreds of hesitance. He was ready. _They_ were ready. It was time.

He kept one arm wrapped loosely around Emile’s waist, while the other reached surreptitiously into his pocket, fingers closing around the small box hidden there. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice light so it wouldn’t betray his nerves.

“You know, babe, I bought something for you earlier. I was gonna wait for, like, the perfect moment, but I guess I’ve realised now that every moment with you is perfect.”

“Sap”, Emile mumbled, grinning as a bright blush spread over his face.

Remy shrugged, giving him a lopsided grin in return. “Yeah, but Olaf was right, some people are worth melting for.” He took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to calm his racing heart. “I thought this Remy rider could keep on riding alone, but now I just wanna be wherever you are. So...”

He pulled his hand from his pocket, opening the box to reveal a gold ring inlaid with a ruby, a sapphire, and a garnet. He raised his eyes, full of hope and anxiety, to meet his boyfriend’s. “Wanna make this a permanent fusion, Emile?”

Emile’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open with a squeal in the back of his throat that grew in volume and intensity until as last his brain recovered enough to translate his emotions into words.

“That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” he yelled, volume control temporarily forgotten in his excitement.

“Uh, yeah”, Remy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I got Roman to help me figure out what to say, although most of his suggestions were Disney references and, like, _way_ over the top.”

Emile shook his head, his eyes shining. “It was perfect, he said firmly, taking the ring and slipping it onto his finger. “Perma-fusion, activate!” He launched himself into Remy’s arms, then added as an afterthought, “Oh, and of course I’ll marry you, too!”

Remy laughed, his face ruby red as he hugged his fiancé tightly. “Yeah, I got that, babe”, he murmured, pressing a kiss to Emile’s cheek. “And I’ll stick around for good, I promise. Life always tastes sweeter when I’m with you.”


End file.
